


Drabble Dump

by N0V0C41NE



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-26 02:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13847958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N0V0C41NE/pseuds/N0V0C41NE
Summary: Random Drabble dump with OCs from Tumblr!Here's thelinkto my own OCs.





	1. Sledge & Xeno [Featuring Doc & Xerxes]

"Egan!? Why do you have a black eye!?"

 

" _Den thélo na milíso gi 'aftó_  (I don't want to talk about it)."

 

Heavy footsteps from the other caused him to spin on his heels, and he was met with a man an inch taller than he was. His build broader and tougher than he was, eyes of a warm blue gazing down at his own heterochromatic blue-green pair. The older twin by five seconds blinked once, then twice, and then did he turn to face his brother who was gently placing the cold pack on his eye—of which Doc came over to give it.

 

" _Mi mou peís. Ton apokaloúse lípos_ (don't tell me. You called him fat)."

 

No eye contact.

 

"He called you fat, didn't he?" Big brother asked, eyes fixed upon the taller man next to him.

 

Without the mask, Sledge's smile looked...  _scary_. "Well," the taller man started to say, "what do you think he called me, Kal? On the first day you both joined our lovely home?"

 

The said older twin stared at this man with his jaw hanging. And again, he dared to blink once, then twice. His eyes flew to Doc, who just stared with widen eyes before both their eyes flitted over to the youngest in the room. The big brother's brow twitched in utter annoyance and started throwing _coins—_ he had them stashed in his pockets for snacks—at his brother (at this point, Doc ran off because Kal's wrath was screaming trepidation at such a young age).

 

" _Eísai o megalýteros ilíthios se ólo to sýmpan! Den boró na periméno na sas grothiá sto prósopo_ (you are the biggest idiot in the whole universe! I cannot wait to punch you in the face)!"


	2. Kal & Egan [Featuring Doc, Mist (Momokokins (tumblr)' OC) & White Mask]

_“_ _Get the fuck away from him!”_

 

_“Or what? Are you going to kill me with that little blade? — Face it, kid. I’m the King, here.”_

 

_Dagger entrusted, his teeth clenched, heterochromatic eyes setting ablaze. He attacked with a vengeance. Feet flitting over to the man towering over his blood, he danced a deadly ambush; the dagger was gripped so tightly, his knuckles turned a ghostly white._

 

_He swung._

 

_A heavy swing aimed for the face—for the mask. A gunshot resounded as the force of his swing broke through the white mask and through skin; metal stuck in his side, but he did not stop. Swing after swing, he tore open the skin at the face, the neck, then the chest. Forcing himself to keep going, the muscles in his arm were screaming at him to stop. But he couldn’t. He was so close. One more hit, and he was finished. One more hit, and he could save him blood._

 

_One more hit, and he was **King**._

 

_The blue in his eye shrieked to a sharp electric blue as the fury left his blood in explosions. The green fizzed a bright neon as his vengeance was being settled in the flashing array of slashes and jabs. There was no way to stop him. The attacker… the torturer was hurting his own with such aggression, the prey-turned-predator needed to pay back ten-fold._

 

_On the last swing, crimson splattered; nearly seven-foot collapsed into a heap with an echoing thud, breathing heavily as the dagger lodged right in his heart; the weapon dancing along with his heartbeat._

 

_If that dagger was pulled out, it was his end._

 

_This, victim-made-attacker started to whisper; squatting over the much taller man—his hand grasped the weapon’s hilt, threatening to pull it out with a force to slam him against the doors of Death, is for every single one you’ve hurt in Rainbow—especially Momiji and the boy you’ve almost fucking killed right in front of my eyes. He spat, his own crimson dotting the assailant’s cheek. With a shocking force, the dagger that belonged to a certain Russian was pulled out, and a life was taken._

 

_Only did the cold slap him in the face. Negative something degrees in the Northern hemisphere, his body became rigid—his bones starting to refuse his will. His need. Screaming, he forced himself to move to the man he was protecting. He moved to the man whom was his family; his blood. Collapsing onto his knees, the energy depleted, green-blue eyes met an identical pair as he pulled the other round and onto his back. Fingers scouted the other’s cheek, but that hand grabbed a snow-white limb as their body warmth started to drop at a rate too frightening to speak._

 

_“Stay with me!”_

 

_“You… listen to me. You have take her, and… get out of here.”_

 

_“I cannot just—!”_

 

_“She needs more attention than me. My time’s almost up, anyway.”_

 

_A broken chuckle rose to the surface, but was replaced by a gag in seconds. More crimson shone; body jerking as the air was slowly being stolen. Tired heterochromatic eyes were losing their life as each second passed. Grip going slack—he felt his heart stop._

 

_“Momi’s more alive than I am, Kal.”_

 

_And she was._

 

_The younger saved her just before the man with the white mask could even touch her further. He jumped in, taking a bullet to the right pectoral. He continued his attack before his brother could even reach them. A bullet to the arm, and another to the shoulder. He counted three—and there should have only been three._

 

_He counted from the start._

 

_That man should only have three bullets._

 

_But what he didn’t take account for… was the extra gun. He had turned his back to him too bloody soon, and took the bullet straight through the back and out. That bullet was lodged in the female’s chest. But to protect her, he fell forward. It was he who became the shield before Kal came into the light—it was he who took the bullet that now was the only thing stopping the other from leaving the world, too._

 

_The older gazed at the female, her breathing going erratic as she became sensitive to the dropping temperature._

 

_A broken smile with a gaze that looked too far off stared back at him. “What are you waiting for? I’m alre—”_

 

“Kal?”

 

He just kept walking, and slowly broke into a run; his vision fizzed, his cheeks starting to dampen—and only after the third room, he choked on a sob and forced himself to stop running. He lurched forward, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, teeth worrying the skin to shut him up. His muscles burned and whined, his heart raced and screamed, and the The older ripped his hand away from his mouth and slammed his tightened fist against his chest: once, twice, and then thrice; his sobs louden, and the tears finally escaped. The loud thumping against his chest stopped, but his tears did not. Strong arms enveloped him as he shouted: incoherent words of hate, depression, want. He shouted nothing, eyes screwed tight and fists clenched at his sides. He fell onto his knees, letting gravity take over and friction to disappear. His nails clawed at the cracked flooring, fingertips wounded by the chipped edges. His fingers dug deep, blood now meandering through the cracks.

 

“You couldn’t save him, Kal,” said the Russian, leaning against the wall as he watched upon the youngest, “no one could’ve saved Egan even if we tried.”

 

_“I’m already dead.”_


End file.
